Fair Game
by NCDavis
Summary: A Gateau/Tira fic in Gateau's POV. Gateau's turned his charming attentions toward Tira and he knows exactly how things will turn out. Or does he? Complete.
1. Default Chapter

"Fair Game" Part I  
  
NCDavis  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Sorcerer Hunters or any characters created by Satoru Akahori and Ray Omishi. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and my humble homage to fans and creators. Please save the whip for Carrot.  
  
AN: Written solely in Gateau's POV, "Fair Game" exists within a vacuum of sorts. It's not really meant to fit within a specific timeline of the SH universe, yet it's not AU. The characters are who they're supposed to be and the story takes personal histories into account. In other words, no Tira as Snow White and we're still on Spooner Continent. I'll err on the side of caution and warn that some may see OOC-ness. However, this fic is mainly an exercise in "what if." What if something made Tira take a hard look at her life so far? OOC or a character growing, you be the judge.  
  
Also, bare with me while I find the right combo of font and point.  
  
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He stood silent, watching. The ebony-haired young man knelt down by the bank of the river, while the pink-haired young woman held a basket in front of her, a tail fin protruding from the edge of it. His partners. His torment.  
  
Marron was still, almost in a trance. In a flash, he plunged his hand into the gurgling water. He pulled out another fish without a hint of triumph, calmly placing it in the basket along side the other.  
  
Gateau couldn't help wondering which would be easier: catching fish barehanded or getting a date with the one he wanted. He snorted. No contest. Catching the fish. The one Gateau wanted was more agile, more quick-witted, and more evasive. That was part of the fun. The challenge.  
  
And the gods had finally given him the chance to act.  
  
Carrot and Marron's father, Onion, had taken ill. Their boss, Big Mama, sensed sorcery at work. There'd been a row among Onion's children, both his blood sons and foster daughters, about who would try to find Seiryu's Blood: a hidden magical pool Big Mama had said would yield a cure. Normally the five sorcerer hunters would've traveled together as for any other mission, but sorcery seemed to be rampant the past few months, and the head of the Steller Church had no personnel to spare. So lots had been drawn among the Glace/Misu clan, and Carrot and the elder daughter Chocolat had won the right to go find the pool, leaving Marron, Tira and him as a band of hunters to deal with the current epidemic of kinjyu terrorizing the rest of Spooner Continent.  
  
Gateau turned his attention back to chopping firewood, his usual job as strong man. He was certain both of his teammates knew he'd been watching them, but neither of them had the temperament to call him on it right then. No matter. Despite the troubles around them, circumstance was on his side. There were just the three of them. They were traveling between assignments.  
  
He made another jab at the fallen tree trunk with his hand, breaking it down to a length better served for a campfire. Now that the idea had taken root, the desires he'd kept silent could no longer be denied. He told himself he could have anyone he wanted, in part to keep focused on his quest. It was no boast. His blond looks and muscular build led many a would-be lover to try all sorts of tactics to catch his favor. He'd enjoyed numbers of them, reveled in their skill, their beauty. But none of them had been like this one. Beautiful -- he drew in a breath -- but not willing to even grant him a look of hope that they might one day share a bed.  
  
Tonight that would change.  
  
/=/=/=/  
  
The fire still burned bright as Gateau sat up in his bedroll. He looked across the flame at Marron. It'd taken him months to learn when Marron was truly asleep and when he was just faking it, his eyes closed but fully awake. All signs pointed to the former. Sliding his gaze farther right, he noted Tira's bedroll was . . . empty? He'd feigned sleep himself, but hadn't heard her move. Gateau frowned. It wasn't like her to wander away from camp.  
  
He got up on the alert, yet nothing in the sounds of the surrounding fauna suggested anything amiss. The birds and animals were silent, save for those nocturnal by nature. He would've heard someone approach or any kind of struggle. If magic had been used, Marron would've awakened immediately. He relaxed somewhat as he walked away from the camp circle.  
  
He noticed a single set of footprints leading into the forest. Her footprints. He smiled to himself. Let the game begin. 


	2. 

"Fair Game" Part II  
  
NCDavis  
  
Disclaimer: See Part I  
  
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Gateau stumbled upon a small lake in a clearing, still partially blocked from his full view by the low branches of trees. The moon, full and high, bathed the scene in silver-blue light. He stopped to savor the sight.  
  
A soft splash caught his attention. He scanned the area, his eyes stopping to rest upon a puddle of cloth near a rock. He moved towards it, kneeling to examine it further. Tira's dress. He trembled as he lifted it to his face, a pang of arousal gripping his loins as he inhaled her scent.  
  
He took a steady breath of the cool night air and let the garment fall from his fingers. Another swish of water drew his attention to the lake itself.  
  
Thank the gods he was already on his knees. She was submerged to the waist, the dark water lapping at her belly. Her torso glistened, her nipples swollen by caresses of cool wind and water. Tendrils that had escaped her upswept hair clung to her dampened shoulders, taunting him that they could lay against her body while he could not.  
  
He gulped air now, praying for it to calm the fever of desire that burned through him. Blood roared hot lust in his ears and pressed his cock into the strained crotch of his jeans. Control. He must keep control. If he was to have her, it was key.  
  
A shadow fell across him as hands touched his shoulders. He glanced up. Tira. He'd been so focused on bringing his senses back to normal he hadn't heard her approach.  
  
She put an arm around him. "Are you all right?"  
  
No, he wasn't all right. She had wrapped herself in a towel, but her nearness, as well as the concern in her gentle voice, assaulted his senses all over again. He needed to lighten the mood.  
  
"Fine. Just tired. Voyeurism's hard work angel. I guess I'm out of practice."  
  
"You seemed to be quite adapt at it this afternoon."  
  
He smiled. She had noticed. "That was different. Merely scouting." He wanted to see where honesty would lead them.  
  
She didn't take the bait. Instead she started to rise, but he caught her wrist. "You want to tell me what you're doing way out here?"  
  
"Wasn't it obvious?" Amusement laced her reply.  
  
"I'd expect that baka to freeze his ass off by getting soaked on a night like this, but you've always had more sense."  
  
She tensed briefly. Despite the punishment she and Chocolat dished out on Carrot and his skirt-chasing ways, she'd been in love with Marron's older brother as long as he had known them. She only tolerated him call the boy an idiot since, in a way, he used it as a nickname.  
  
"Sorry, Tira. I know how you feel about him."  
  
This time the tension Gateau sense came from deep within her. Odd. Come to think of it, she'd been more withdrawn lately. He'd assumed she was worried about Onion, or Carrot and the others, but now he began to wonder.  
  
"Answer me. Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine," came the terse reply. She tried to pull her wrist away.  
  
Gateau released her, but only long enough to take hold of her upper arms. "No you're not. For starters, you're shivering."  
  
Much as he hated how her shroud hid her from him, he picked up the garment and draped it around her. "Get the rest of your things. I'll take you back to camp. The fire's still--"  
  
"No Gateau."  
  
Her words were soft, but he could hear the determination in them. Her stubborn streak rarely showed itself, but once in place, it was unshakable. Even if he forcibly carried her back, she'd only leave the second her feet touched ground.  
  
"Then I'll build a fire here."  
  
"No. I want the darkness. That's why I left camp."  
  
Gateau felt his frustration rise. "Dammit, Tira, you'll catch cold if you don't get in a warm place. That towel is damp, and that dress of yours won't be enough."  
  
Without a word, she pulled a blanket from the other side of the rock. They each carried one in their packs for nights like these.  
  
She stood, buttoning up her dress. The towel slid from underneath her skirt. She laid it out on the rock, then settled herself down, wrapping the blanket snugly about her. She'd come to stay here for a while.  
  
She never looked toward him the entire time. She seemed lost in her own mind, focused on some unseen point in the distance. He wanted to stay. His need for her still hummed in his body. But he didn't completely know this Tira. Seduction was best saved for another night.  
  
He sighed. "We need to reach Samaru by tomorrow evening. We break camp at dawn. You need to be back by then."  
  
He turned to leave her in peace.  
  
"Don't go."  
  
That stopped him dead in his tracks. He waited.  
  
"You want me, don't you Gateau." It was more question than statement. "I know you want Marron, but you want me a little as well."  
  
Gateau felt like the ground had just tilted. He didn't know this Tira at all. It was all he could do to answer her. "Yeah, I mean, Marron and I have an understanding."  
  
"I don't want to hurt him."  
  
Confused, Gateau slowly turned to face her. "Marron? It's not like that. He and I have . . . enjoyed each other. There's a bond, but no `us.' Right now, he's pining for a guy in Urahi. A sculptor."  
  
"So he's not in love with you." That news seemed to reassure her.  
  
Moments passed. She stood up, leaving the blanket behind. She walked to him and pressed her body into his.  
  
He felt her smile. "I can feel your desire against me." With hesitation, she traced his finger along his pec. It flexed involuntarily at her touch. She lifted her gaze so their eyes met.  
  
Gateau's head reeled. Where had this come from?? She still had feelings for Carrot, didn't she?? "Damn, woman, what game is this?!"  
  
"No game."  
  
None of this made sense to him, and all the while his body was caring less and less about sense.  
  
"Tira--"  
  
She took a breath, tensing as if to steady herself. Her voice was a whisper. "C-Come inside me Gateau." 


	3. 

"Fair Game" Part III  
  
NCDavis  
  
Disclaimer: See Part I  
  
AN: Thanks to those who've reviewed so far. I'm glad the "G-cake" folks are happy. ^_^ Housekeeping note: words in double colons ( ::) represent thought.  
  
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Higher thought ceased in that moment. He devoured her mouth with his kisses not knowing how they managed to fall to the ground. She'd pulled up her skirt; he shoved down his pants. A soft breeze, a section of her dress, something whispered across his erection. It took him a moment to realize the guttural sound that followed was his own.  
  
Her legs drew him to her as he plunged inside her. She gasped. Somewhere in the far recesses of his higher mind he knew she'd been a virgin. He should've given her time to adjust, but his primal mind was too long in control, too far gone in pursuit of his own pleasure. He'd found their rhythm, pulsing, pumping, pumping, pumping--  
  
::Sweet gods:: Heat erupted from him, shuddering in waves for what seemed an eternity. He collapsed exhausted, awareness coming back to him as his body calmed to small aftershocks, intermittent thrusts of a waning lust.  
  
His throat was raspy from his cries. Something bit into his palm. He opened his hand to see he'd crushed a small stone, the jagged edges of violently formed pebbles stuck in his skin. That concerned him. Even in passion he usually had better control of his strength.  
  
He became aware that he was still resting the bulk of his weight on his partner. He shifted to one elbow. "T-Tira?"  
  
She looked up at him, an unreadable look in her eyes. He frowned. As he thought back over the past few minutes, he'd heard not one sound from her, felt not one spasm of pleasure from her body.  
  
She interrupted his introspection. "Hey, why so glum? Isn't this what you wanted?"  
  
His head snapped up. There had been no anger in her words. No bitterness. It was as if she'd pacified a child.  
  
"Me??" His temper flared. "YOU cozied . . .You think THAT'S what I wanted?!"  
  
She sat up. "You've been watching me for weeks now. You've wanted to sleep with me for as long as I can remember. I . . . I decided I wanted that too. So we did. I don't understand why you're angry, Gateau. You've left a string of lovers in one-night stands. This is no different."  
  
He jumped to his feet, pulling up his pants and trying to maintain what dignity he had left. His anger boiled until he stormed over to a nearby tree and slammed his fist into the trunk.  
  
A smaller tree would've been felled by the punch, but this was an old soldier with a huge, thick body. Splinters of bark and pulp exploded at the point of impact. His arm went almost all the way through to the other side. That didn't satisfy him. He pulled back to deliver another blow.  
  
"Stop!" Tira grabbed his bent arm. "Why are you so angry?"  
  
He spun around, grabbing her by her arms. "Even my one-night stands share in more pleasure than a school boy's rutting. And you are far more than a one-nighter to me."  
  
"More?" She sounded stunned.  
  
She wasn't the only one. He hadn't expected the admission, and yet, he knew it to be the truth. He wanted more of her in, well, more ways than one.  
  
What he didn't want was to keep playing catch-up in this game. She'd just put his mind and body in a tailspin. Time to regain control.  
  
"Tell me one thing angel. Why did you sleep with me."  
  
It took her a moment to respond. "I just . . . I just did."  
  
"Sorry, wrong answer." He crossed his arms, feet planted wide. "If I'm gonna get used, I have a right to know why."  
  
She flinched. Good. Right now, pricking her conscience salved his bruised pride. "I'm waiting."  
  
Closing her eyes, she said, "After Tsu-chin, "she took a deep breath, "I started thinking."  
  
Tsu-chin. The sorcerer Fungi had been turning the young men into a mind-controlled army that was sweeping across the province of Emah. With each battle, their exertion created a dark energy that fed Fungi's powers. The hunters had made their stand at the town of Tsu-chin with the aid of Pesto, a young parsoner who'd been learning magic. It was obvious he'd fallen for Tira. She'd seemed intrigued, but Gateau'd guessed her feelings for Carrot made her discourage Pesto's advances.  
  
One night Pesto slipped away from their base to try to weaken the army before it reached the town. He'd been killed before they could reach him.  
  
He knew Tira hadn't loved the boy, but had his feelings for her, and his death, made her examine her blind devotion to Carrot?  
  
He had to hear it for himself. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You're going to make me spell it out, aren't you."  
  
"After what happened here? Definitely."  
  
She heaved a deep sigh. "Pesto asked me questions. Why was I hiding myself. Why was I saving myself, hoping the someday Carrot would fall in love me. He told me what I never wanted to hear, that Carrot already loved me, just not in the way I wanted. He never would. I'm a beloved, sometimes pesky younger sister to him. Nothing more.  
  
"He asked me how many chances at love had I missed because I'd never looked to see them. The last thing he told me before he left was that he hoped," her voice broke, "even if I couldn't love him, I'd one day open my eyes to see another man I could. Someone who could give that love in return."  
  
Gateau could see the tears streaming down her face. He reached out to wipe them away, trying to process what all this meant. "So, you saying you think I'm that guy?"  
  
She sniffled. "I, You're the only other one I can think of in that way."  
  
"In other words, after Carrot, I'm the convenient default."  
  
"That's not what I meant and you know it."  
  
He shrugged. "I know nothing of the sort."  
  
Wrapping her arms around her body, she went on. "There's a part of me," her words trembled, "that's been drawn to you since the day we met. I loved Carrot, but never. . . . That night you couldn't sleep, when I found you sitting by the window?"  
  
He remembered. Another moonlit night. Her beauty, one that shone from deep inside her, had been a beacon to a man still grappling with the destruction of his family. He hadn't been able to help himself then either. In search of comfort, he'd stolen a kiss.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"The intensity in your touch, in your kiss spoke to a need in me I thought only my other self possessed."  
  
He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "So you've just stopped loving Carrot, just like that." He snapped his fingers.  
  
She shook her head. "I just know I can't love him the same way anymore."  
  
He couldn't help but laugh, even though he didn't feel one trace of mirth. "Looks like neither one of got what we wanted." It wasn't simply because the sex had gone wrong. He could fix that. There she was, wanting him. All he had to do was take his time in obliging her. Not wanting to surprised him, but he could not, would not be just her rebound.  
  
Huh. He was asking her to be honest, but was he being honest with himself. He'd played the rebound times before without a second thought. Hell, he didn't mind easing Marron's wounds. He raked his fingers through his hair. He knew. Deep down he knew. "Angel" wasn't some pet name. It's exactly what she'd been to him from the day they met. The day her serenity flooded his grief-torn soul.  
  
A brush of wind shook him from his reverie. She inched closer to him, fumbling with the folds of her dress. "I want to move forward, to try to move forward with you. I just didn't tell you in a very good way."  
  
"You got that right." Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes. Damn. He really couldn't stand to see a woman cry. But he felt the tension slipping away. He could grasp what had brought them to this point, and he could see a future.  
  
"Just understand this," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "No more making promises with that body of yours you aren't ready to keep. We'll take this at our own pace, because the next time we make love, there will be zero room in our bed for ghosts of bakas past. I intend to do everything in my power to make sure you won't want anyone else. Got it?"  
  
She nodded. "You know something? When you're not using the world as your pose-down mirror--"  
  
"Ouch."  
  
She chuckled. "You can be pretty special."  
  
He leaned close, their noses almost touching. "You don't know the half of it."  
  
He brushed her mouth with his, just breaking contact as his tongue stole a taste from the tender inner skin of her lip. A soft whimper escaped her, beckoning him to deepen their kiss. A familiar, welcome hum streamed through his hunter's blood. He reached for her, gathering her skirt to expose the length of her thigh. Gathering . . . and gathering. . . .  
  
Birdsong shrilled through the air, shattering the silence.  
  
Tira pulled back, removing the bolt of skirt from his hand. "It'll be light soon. We should get back before Marron wakes up."  
  
He felt dazed as they headed back to camp. He'd been denied even that minimal foreplay. "Damn birds." Damn skirt. He'd finally met a piece of clothing he couldn't whip from a lover's body in the blink of an eye.  
  
Tira smiled. "So much for patient. Some things really are worth the wait you know."  
  
True. However. "There is one thing I intend to do as soon as possible."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Burn that dress." 


End file.
